


It is a Risk to Love

by writeitininkorinblood



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: M/M, lesbian asexual Kaze has no patience for Gawain's heart eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitininkorinblood/pseuds/writeitininkorinblood
Summary: What if it doesn't work out? Ah, but what if it does.___Gawain's forged himself a little family. Kaze thinks he's just playing with fire.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	It is a Risk to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short lil fic, because it's been a while. Nothing inspiringly original but I just felt like writing.

It had been a long day, although few days passed that weren’t. Gawain had been struggling through defence tactics with Nimue for hours and his brain couldn’t take another calculation of how a raid on their ramshackle village might turn out, not least because the numbers were never coming up in their favour. It was necessary work but it didn’t provide the brightest outlook for the future and he could only take so much of dwelling on the worst. As soon as he was released from duty he headed for home, which took the shape of a small tent on the edge of their community, filled with the two people who most reminded him that hope was still worth clinging on to.

The tell-tale sound of Squirrel fighting was clear as soon as he got within 50 yards of the tent. He was getting better at his swordsmanship but simultaneous stealth was still something he was working on. His death cries weren’t anywhere near intimidating enough to make up for the fact he was alerting everyone nearby to his presence. There was no accompanying clash of metal swords that would tell Gawain he needed to worry and he knew before he rounded the corner to get in eyesight that this was not a real fight.

Sure enough, Lancelot and Squirrel were sparring just beyond their home, right on the edge of the treeline. That they were using sticks instead of wooden training swords spoke to the impromptu nature of the skirmish. Gawain was happy to watch, taking advantage of the fact that Lancelot’s back was to him and Squirrel was distracted by the fight to sit himself down just beside the tent and place bets with himself on the outcome. Squirrel was getting better but he was certainly no match for the former Weeping Monk in a fair fight – Lancelot was going easy on the boy.

Gawain wasn’t sure how long he sat there but eventually a shadow passed over his face and he looked up to see Kaze standing over him, watching Lancelot and Squirrel suspiciously for a moment before staring down at him. He braced himself for impact. While most of the fey had come to like Lancelot, or at least tolerate him after the year he’d been with them, Kaze was still not so welcoming. She thought it was a mistake not to shoot him in the heart with an arrow on sight, a mistake to let him stay at camp, a mistake to hand him a sword and, most certainly of all, a mistake to fall in love with him. Gawain, in her eyes, had made an awful lot of mistakes.

“What are you doing, Gawain?” she sighed, shaking her head.  
“I have no idea,” he admitted, because he’d lost total control of the plot a long time ago. “But I’m doing to keep doing it.”  
“After everything he has done?”  
“Yes.”

Kaze rolled her eyes at his certainty. He was too blinded by his feelings for the man to fully register the threat he posed, no matter how passive. He had no concept of the risk any more, having overindulged in the reward.  
“It’s your funeral, if he turns on you.”

Gawain almost smiled. She’d never seen Lancelot sleeping peacefully and trusting beside him at night, never known what it was like to curl up in his arms and shuck off the roles he had to play because no one else ever wanted to take them. While he couldn’t deny Lancelot’s past, nor the skill that lay dormant, for the meantime, in his bones, he knew without a doubt that the man loved him. As much as he might have once been Lancelot’s quarry, they had put that long behind them. Now they were equals. Partners.   
“He won’t turn on me,” Gawain confirmed resolutely.

Kaze raised an eyebrow, less convinced but not about to push him on it. There were far more sensitive buttons at her disposal and she knew exactly what they were.  
“And if he turns on Squirrel, it’s also your funeral. Or on our Queen. I’ll kill you myself for letting him stay here. I will cut off your head and bury it half a mile from your body so you don’t have a chance in hell of coming back this time.”

It was not an empty threat, but Gawain wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. If any harm came to Squirrel or Nimue, or any of the fey, because of his actions, he would happily offer himself up to her blade for the execution he’d deserve. But it wouldn’t come to that, he was certain. Not because of Lancelot.   
“Understood,” he nodded. “Now, forgive me, I must take my leave.”

Kaze watched as Gawain picked himself up and headed over to join the family he’d made. He picked up an unsuspecting Squirrel from behind and swung him round, eventually putting him down when he went limp and turned himself into a dead weight, just as he’d been told. At the distance she was stood, she heard nothing more louder than a murmur, but whatever Gawain said made his Ashman smile and earned him a kiss. She just shook her head and turned to make her way back towards the centre of the village. She would never understand how Gawain could be so intimate with a man who had slaughtered so many of them, but it would be far from the first time she’d been baffled by the bowing pressure of romance, or the power it wielded when it came to the erasure of faults. Even when those faults were participation in genocide. Not for the first time, she was glad it had no sway over her.


End file.
